


The Irresistible Attraction of Infinite Gravity

by carryokee



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryokee/pseuds/carryokee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny hunts for other planets outside our solar system.  Steve studies the nature of dark matter.  They really have nothing in common (that time in '99 notwithstanding), yet just like Earth and the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs, their orbits are destined to intersect.  Hopefully without any of that pesky mass extinction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Irresistible Attraction of Infinite Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless use of Neil deGrasse Tyson's book _Death by Black Hole_ (great book, btw) for impressive-sounding terminology. Fast and loose (and completely wrong) treatment of the concepts of both physics and math as well as the procedures, facilities, and equipment of the Keck Observatory. I am neither an astrophysicist nor a mathematician, except in my wildest dreams.

**August 17, 1999: Collision**

Not generally known as a bastion of astrophysical breakthroughs, Kansas City’s central location within the contiguous 48 nevertheless meant that it was the perfect place for various physicists and their too-brilliant-for-their-own-good research assistants to gather each year from around the country to discuss their latest findings and test their brilliance in increasingly complex and at times surprisingly violent ways.

“Violence is just the physical manifestation of fear, you know.” This from Davis, who was currently nursing both his Coke and his jaw after being punched in the face by Max Bergman, owner of one of the most scarily imaginative minds in theoretical physics. Everyone thought he was at least slightly insane, but nothing had yet been proven. “When confronted by a perceived threat, the default action for those less intelligent is to lash out against it. Bergman felt threatened by my justified arguments against his ludicrous and unsubstantiated theory that the universe is a hologram composed of infinite quantum projections originating from the event horizons of supermassive black holes. Therefore, the subsequent impact of his fist against my face was simply the action of an inferior intellect struggling to maintain control over an increasingly untenable situation.” He snorted derisively. “I’ll bet he didn’t even break 1400 on his SATs.” He was inordinately proud of his own perfect SAT score, which, really? No one gave a shit.

“No one gives a shit about your SAT score, Davis,” Danny said, gazing at him across the cluttered surface of the table. The man sitting next to Davis smiled at that, keeping his dark eyes on Danny. He’d been doing it all night, but Danny kept pretending not to notice. Instead, he sat slumped low in his chair, his chin nearly resting on his sternum. Through the curve of his glass, Davis looked like a troll. “What have you done for me lately?”

“Fuck you, Williams.” Davis took a slow pull from his soda and grimaced, rubbing his jaw. He met Danny’s eyes and smirked. “Besides, I know for a fact that you only got an 1190.” Which, in Davis’ eyes, meant Danny was barely one step above ‘speed bump’ in the intelligence department.

Danny smiled maliciously. “So tell me something, Melvin.” Davis’ eyes narrowed at the use of his first name. By his own account, he’d been M. Robert Davis since the third grade. “Has your dick ever seen anything other than the inside of your left fist?”

There were scattered snickers around the table at that. Davis’s face hardened, but when he tried to clench his jaw, he winced and the effect was lost.

“Come on now, Danno. Be nice,” said the man next to Davis, who draped a well-muscled arm around the back of Davis’ neck. One of his hands dangled loosely in the air in front of Davis’ chest. Danny’s eyes fixed on it for a moment before lifting to stare at the face of the man it belonged to. Danno? No one had ever called him that. And besides, how did this guy even know his name? He was pretty sure they’d never actually met, though the guy did look vaguely familiar. But in his semi-inebriated state, Danny couldn’t quite place him.

The guy smiled at him, a wide, bright slash in the dim light. “There’s something you should know about my man Davis, here,” he said, pulling Davis towards him, Davis following reluctantly. He tapped Davis’ left temple with the tip of his own left index finger. “His mind is more highly developed than ours. He doesn’t have to masturbate; he simply thinks himself to orgasm.” Half the table erupted in the too-loud laughter of the half-drunk.

Davis jerked out of his grasp, glaring daggers at him. Or in Davis’ case, glaring beams of ionized light waves at him. “Go to hell, McGarrett.”

McGarrett. Something clicked in Danny’s brain at the name. He remembered him now: Steven J. McGarrett, Stanford University. He’d participated on a panel discussion yesterday morning about the nature of dark matter and its effect on the curvature and diffusion of light from objects at the edge of space. Danny had come in late and in all honesty, he hadn’t really been paying all that much attention. Dark matter wasn’t really his thing. It was there, there was a lot of it, no one even knew what the hell it was, and it didn’t affect his area of interest – extrasolar planets – in the least. So, whatever.

Besides, there was another reason he remembered the name McGarrett. He stifled his grin as he thought of Jenna.

Laughing, McGarrett met Danny’s eyes as he yanked Davis towards him again. “I love you, too, baby,” he said, planting a big kiss on Davis’ cheek. Scattered catcalls sounded from around the table.

Davis shoved McGarrett away and swiped his hand across his cheek in disgust. “You’re all idiots, you know that? One beer and all your intellect melts away like Mars’s atmosphere. It’s sad, really. At least when you’re sober, you’re almost interesting. Now it’s like talking to a table full of Ken dolls.” He pushed out his chair and stood up. “Have fun pickling your livers.”

He turned to go, but McGarrett’s hand around his arm stopped him. “How about a little challenge, then?”

Davis just stared at him. “Excuse me?”

McGarrett let go of his arm and smiled. “A race, of sorts. Theoretical math that would make Einstein want to open a vein. Problem chosen at random by a neutral third party, first one to solve it wins. You against each of us, one at a time.” He looked around the table, catching Danny’s gaze for a moment before looking back at Davis. “You think we’re all idiots anyway, right? Should be a piece of cake.”

Davis looked uncertain, but Danny knew he’d take the bait. The man couldn’t resist a chance to show off his self-proclaimed superior intellect to anyone and everyone whenever possible.

Looking around at each of them in turn as if relishing a quick slaughter, Davis finally grinned. He looked back at McGarrett. “You first.”

+++

Five hours, 76 napkins, 14 defeated colleagues, three ballpoint pens, two aching hands, and one sweet, sweet victory later, Danny grinned across the table at Davis, who sat there looking utterly stunned, nostrils flaring a little with each labored breath. His fingers were clamped so tightly around his pen, they looked fused together. Danny dropped his own pen on the table and flexed his hand in satisfaction. He wanted to gloat, but he wasn’t the type to kick a man while he was down. Not even a man like M. Robert Davis. Besides, the man’s blank-eyed stare of unexpected defeat at the hands of an inferior being was reward enough. For now.

Nearly everyone was gone. Davis had made mincemeat out of them in record time – just like he’d expected – and they’d all gone back to the hotel hours ago. McGarrett, despite being the first one eliminated, had stayed until the very end. He was in the john now, heading there directly after proclaiming Danny the winner, presumably pissing away hours’ worth of beer and coffee. 

Danny stood up. His legs were a bit shaky from sitting so long, but his brain buzzed brightly inside his skull. It was more than the caffeine; it was that weird combination of wired and exhausted he always felt after long hours of laser-focused mental exertion, when all his concentration finally paid off. It was the same feeling he got every time he discovered an infinitesimal change in the brightness of a distant star – the one that just might mean a new planet was in orbit around it.

He looked down at Davis, who had finally stirred and was looking up at him with unreserved hatred. He was massaging his crippled left hand. “You cheated,” he said. “You’re ambidextrous.”

“Self-taught,” Danny said evenly. “I’ve discovered it comes in handy in situations where stamina is required.”

“No doubt,” McGarrett said, suddenly beside him. He was standing so close, their arms brushed against each other.

Danny let the moment linger, then added. “Also? It’s not cheating. The contest was all about utilizing one’s natural abilities, was it not? If you had wanted to drop your pants and start writing with the stick up your ass, I wouldn’t have objected.” He smiled serenely. McGarrett snorted.

And okay, maybe he was gloating. A little.

Davis glared at them and stood up, giving them each a disdainful once-over before walking out shaking his head.

Danny watched him go, then met McGarrett’s eyes. “Something I said?”

+++

“Theoretical mathematics was my major in college, by the way. Along with physics,” Danny said as he dug inside his pocket for his lighter, his cigarette bouncing between his lips with each word. He cast McGarrett a sidelong look. “But I’m pretty sure you knew that already.”

McGarrett watched in meaningful silence as Danny lit up, but didn’t say a word. “So. Eleven-ninety, huh?”

Danny smirked, then took a long drag, pushing the smoke out through his nose. “I answered a lot of those questions wrong on purpose,” he said. At McGarrett’s raised eyebrows, he went on. “I was 16. One false move and I’d be branded a geek forever. A 1600 just wouldn’t do.”

“And yet here you are.”

“Here I am.” Danny shrugged, blowing out another stream of smoke. Then he smiled a little. “What can I say? My genius cannot be contained.”

McGarrett laughed. “And he’s modest, too.”

“Says the guy who used me to teach Melvin Davis a lesson.” 

“Worked like a charm, too.” McGarrett just smiled, dark eyes intense as he looked Danny up and down. Seconds passed. Three. Four. Five. Danny counted them in his head. “Anything else I can use you for?”

Danny held his gaze, arousal coiling hot and low in his belly. He suddenly wanted nothing more than this man’s hands, his lips, his tongue on his skin. Buying time, he turned to twist his cigarette out against the wall, dropping it into the trash as he took a deep breath. Turning back, he looked up at McGarrett, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What do you have in mind?”

McGarrett’s smile was deadly.

+++

Steve – Danny wasn’t sure exactly when ‘McGarrett’ changed to ‘Steve’ inside his head, but he could definitely narrow it down to sometime after the stall door closed and before the kissing started – removed his hand from Danny’s pants and his tongue from Danny’s mouth and flopped back against the wall, breathing hard. Danny’s hand slipped free from Steve’s fly then and he absently wiped his palm on Steve’s thigh before letting it fall away. Staring up at the ceiling, he idly thought about bodies and the forces they exert on each other.

“Newton’s Third Law,” he said out loud before he could stop himself, the words coming out between breaths. His heartbeat was only just starting to slow and even though he could feel the cool air on his now-sticky cock, he couldn’t be bothered to zip himself up.

Steve barked out a laugh. “My favorite one,” he said. “Though I would hardly call what we just did an adequate demonstration of it.” Out of the corner of Danny’s eye, he saw Steve tucking himself back in, heard the sound of his zipper closing. Then he felt Steve’s eyes on him. “Perhaps we should try it again in a different setting. See if it’s really applicable under varying experimental conditions.”

Danny suppressed a smile, his hands shaking a little as he finally zipped himself up. “I believe more testing is definitely in order,” he said, turning his head a little to give Steve a sidelong look, finally letting his smile break through.

+++

“I didn’t, you know,” Steve said later, after further – and repeated – testing revealed that yes, Newton’s Third Law did in fact apply to their two particular bodies exerting force against one another. 

Danny peeked out from under his arm to see Steve staring at him in the lamplight. Didn’t what? Like it? Come? “Can a man fake an orgasm?”

Steve laughed in surprise, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “What?”

Danny pushed himself up on his elbows. “Is that even possible? I mean, it seemed like you…it felt like…you sounded…” He narrowed his eyes. “You jizzed all over my hand, like, two hours ago. There’s no way you faked that one.”

Suddenly, Danny found himself flat on his back, his arms and legs pinned by a rather large mass of beautiful genius. “If you weren’t so goddamn brilliant,” Steve said, “I’d call you a fucking idiot.”

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Sometimes when I’m not really using it, my brain goes a little stupid.”

Steve smiled back. “I like it.” He ducked his head and kissed Danny long and slow, resting his full weight on him and loosening his grip, sinking his fingers into Danny’s hair. His hips started picking out a slow, steady rhythm against Danny’s hip. Pressing his hands to Steve’s skin, Danny looped his foot around Steve’s ankle and just went with it.

One excruciatingly slow-building orgasm later, Steve pressed his lips to Danny’s ear and said, “What I was going to say was, I didn’t know for sure you’d beat him.”

Danny pushed him away and met his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Steve settled on his side and propped his head on his fist. “Davis may be a socially stunted douche with a superiority complex, but he isn’t really that far off when he says he’s smarter than everyone else.”

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Steve shushed him with a hand on his upper thigh, the backs of his fingers brushing lightly against Danny’s balls. “Present company excluded, of course.” He trailed his fingertips along the length of Danny’s soft dick and smiled. Danny felt a twinge, but there was just no way anything more was happening any time soon.

He looked at Steve’s hand, then at his face. “You knew this would happen.” 

“Hoped,” Steve corrected. “I hoped it would.” He shrugged, totally nonchalant. “I mean, I knew we’d fuck eventually. It was only a matter of time.” Danny started to protest again, but Steve simply raised one eyebrow and gave him a look, his fingertips pressing into Danny’s thigh. Danny’s protest died in his throat. “I just didn’t think it would be this easy,” Steve continued. He smiled. “Thank god you’re kind of a slut.”

“Me? You practically dry humped me at the bar,” Danny said. “What was with all the staring, by the way?”

Steve shrugged. “Life is short.”

“‘Life is short’? That’s all you’ve got? Full ride to Stanford, two-time Browning Award winner, recipient of the Schwartzman Fellowship, and all you can give me is a cliché?”

Steve was grinning. “You’ve read about me. I’m touched.”

Danny felt himself blush. “Don’t be. To be honest, until Davis said your name tonight, I couldn’t place you at all. I’m not good with faces, but names I remember.” He narrowed his eyes. “Besides, you beat my friend Jenna Kaye out for the Schwartzman. We spent an entire evening doing tequila shots, cursing your name, and belittling all your accomplishments.”

Steve chuckled. “If she could only see you now,” he said, sliding his hand across Danny’s belly, scratching his nails lightly across his skin. “Sleeping with the enemy.”

“If she saw you naked,” Danny said, “I think she’d understand.”

Steve grinned and slid across the sheets until their bodies were flush. He ducked his head, nipping along Danny’s jaw, the flat edges of his teeth pressing into Danny’s skin. “I want to know all about you, Danno,” he murmured, sliding his hand from Danny’s belly to his chest, the pad of his thumb brushing Danny’s nipple as his tongue flicked across Danny’s earlobe. “Tell me everything.”

Danny tilted his head away, forcing Steve to look at him. “That’s the second time you’ve called me that,” he said. 

Steve held his eyes. “So?”

“Why?”

“Does anyone else call you Danno?”

“No.”

Steve smiled. “There’s your answer.”

 

**February 22, 2008: Orbital Shift**

The last time they’d communicated was the day Danny had gotten his Ph.D. _Congratulations, Dr. Williams!_ the e-mail had begun, followed by dozens of bouncing emoticons that had made Danny’s retinas bleed. After that, not a word. Danny wasn’t sure why, really. It just sort of…stopped. No hard feelings. But they’d been orbiting each other like binary stars ever since, circling the same center of gravity but never coming close enough to interact directly.

They lived two different lives. Danny was what was commonly referred to as a planet hunter, searching the stars in nearby galaxies for new worlds. He was in search of the Holy Grail: a new Earth, or at least something close enough to it to theoretically support complex life forms. He hadn’t found it yet, but at least no one else had, either. So he would keep searching. It was an unbelievably big universe.

Steve studied dark matter, that still unknown, so far undetectable stuff that accounted for 85 percent of the gravity in the entire universe. How someone could devote their lives to a substance that couldn’t be detected or measured by anything on Earth continued to stymie Danny, but Dr. Steven J. McGarrett was turning into one of the world’s preeminent experts on the stuff. He’d skimmed a couple of Steve’s papers over the years, but didn’t grok half the concepts. But that was okay; he doubted his discovery of the larger-than-Jupiter gas giant HD397469b (Danny privately called it Gracie in honor of his daughter) orbiting around the aptly named star HD397469 was of any interest at all to someone like Steve.

Such was the nature of astrophysics and astrophysicists. Insular and laser-focused, there was no field of interest beyond their own.

And anyway, in the nearly nine years since they’d last seen each other, Danny had moved on with his life. He had become a husband and a father and as his mother said, “the first doctor in the Williams family tree since the 18th century.” It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a medical doctor; his mom just liked to be able to introduce him as “my son, the doctor.”

He was in Paris, France for a conference. A beautiful city, but he couldn’t wait to go home. Rachel had come with him, but Grace was back in Jersey with his parents and he missed her something awful. When he was away from her, he couldn’t seem to get completely comfortable.

Rachel was late. There was nothing new in that; she was usually late. But she was now officially very late and Danny had a feeling that it stemmed directly from their earlier argument. She had wanted him to ditch the conference and walk around the city with her. He had stupidly argued that he was here to work, not sightsee. To which she had then responded by asking that universally unanswerable question, Why Did I Even Bother Coming Then? Of course, Danny had tried to answer anyway, voices were raised, and they both finally retreated to their separate corners.

They were supposed to meet 45 minutes ago to have dinner. Danny was still sitting in the bar downstairs, waiting.

+++

“Davis isn’t here, you know. And you already impressed me years ago.”

Danny looked up from the napkin he’d been writing on – his hobby since college had been finding his own proof to Fermat’s Last Theorem, and puzzling over the familiar equation soothed him – to find a familiar grin beaming back at him. It had been years since he’d last seen it up close, but he suddenly remembered that last time like it was yesterday: a warm afternoon in Kansas City, one last grope in the hotel men’s room before the shuttle bus took Danny away to the rest of his life.

But here he was again, Steve McGarrett, the color of his eyes as indeterminate as Danny remembered. “Dr. McGarrett,” he said, turning on his stool and holding out his hand.

“Dr. Williams.” Steve held the handshake two seconds too long before letting go. “Long time, no see.”

“St. Louis, wasn’t it?” Danny stifled a smile.

“Kansas City,” Steve said evenly.

“That’s right. I forgot,” Danny deadpanned. “I’m terrible with names.”

Steve smiled. “I thought you were good with names.”

Danny picked up his glass, holding Steve’s gaze. “It comes and goes.”

“Ah.” Steve got the bartender’s attention and ordered a glass of the same red wine Danny was having. When it arrived, he picked up his glass and tapped it against Danny’s. “To the universe and all its wonders,” he said, taking a drink.

Danny laughed. “Wow, really?”

A tentative smile played at Steve’s lips. “What?”

Danny cleared his throat. “‘To the universe and all its wonders,’” he mimicked. “What a pompous prick.”

Steve laughed. “What? I thought it sounded suitably cerebral.”

“Fuck cerebral,” Danny said, grinning at the look on Steve’s face. “How about something more…nostalgic?”

Steve lifted his eyebrows. “Such as?”

Danny lifted his glass and waited for Steve to do the same. Then he said with a smile, “To sloppy handjobs in public restrooms.”

Steve’s smile was positively incandescent. “And Newtonian sex in the Midwest.”

They clinked glasses and drank.

+++

Rachel finally showed up a half hour later with effusive and insincere apologies, barely looking at Danny before focusing her attention on Steve. Before she arrived, Danny had already resolved to invite Steve to dinner, which was probably the wrong move, but he didn’t care. He was feeling edgy and defensive at the sight of her and he knew Rachel’s deeply ingrained sense of English politeness would prevent her from forcing his hand. So even when Steve tried to demur, claiming he didn’t want to intrude, Rachel insisted, and off they went.

At least the wine was excellent.

+++

“You have a beautiful wife, Danny,” Steve said later as they stood huddled outside on the balcony of Danny’s hotel room, braving the February cold.

Danny was smoking – a habit he had yet to break, though he was trying for Gracie’s sake. He could feel the smoke curling in his lungs and held it there a moment before exhaling. “Thanks,” he said, looking out at the river. It really was a beautiful city; he felt a little guilty for not allowing himself to enjoy it.

“Everything okay?”

Danny looked at him then and found his face unreadable. “Of course. I’m in Paris with my beautiful wife. What could possibly be wrong?” He smiled but it felt brittle, so he looked away.

They fell into silence and Danny watched the tour boats slide smoothly over the Seine, their warm yellow lights glowing invitingly in the darkness. He should book one of those cruises for him and Rachel, make an effort to put things right before they left in two days. He hated it when they argued, though it seemed to be happening more and more often lately. It was so easy to blame her for all of it, to tell himself that she knew who he was when she married him, what he was about, and to expect anything different was a practice in futility. But he knew that wasn’t fair. His life didn't just happen without him; he made choices. When it came to his marriage, he just never seemed to make the right ones.

“We’re having problems,” he said into the silence. He didn’t really mean to say it, especially not to Steve – a man, despite their brief yet intimate history, he barely knew at all – but he couldn’t take the words back. And the second they left his mouth, he knew why he’d never said them out loud: putting a voice to them gave them weight. Inside his head, they were weightless. Easy to push away. “This trip was supposed to help.”

“Danny,” Steve said softly, “I’m sorry.”

Danny’s huffed breath frosted the air. “Contrary to popular belief, I really am an asshole.”

Steve nudged him with his elbow. “Actually, I think that _is_ popular belief.”

Danny smiled despite himself and looked over at him. Steve was looking at him, the traces of his smile still curving his mouth. They looked at each other in silence for a long moment before Danny finally broke it. “It’s really good to see you, Steve.”

Steve smiled again, but it looked a little sad. “You too, Danno.”

 

**June 8, 2012: Reciprocity**

Kono Kalakaua, Danny’s research assistant, poked her head in Danny’s office door and grinned. Danny put his pen down and narrowed his eyes at her. As brilliant as she was an astrophysicist, she was an equally brilliant practical joker, and the sheer wattage of her smile made him worry a little about what exactly she was beaming about. “What’s up, Doc?” She was going for nonchalant, but was failing miserably.

Danny admirably refrained from rolling his eyes. “Out with it.”

She stepped all the way into his office and stood in front of his desk, the mountains of journals, printouts, and photographs reaching past her waist. Grinning even wider – if that was even possible – she started bouncing on the balls of her feet. Tiny and always in motion, she reminded him of a hummingbird. “Three guesses.”

Danny smiled and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dean Jameson spontaneously combusted and all that’s left is her shoes.”

She giggled. “If wishes were fishes,” she said.

Danny sighed dramatically. “Hope springs eternal.”

“Guess again.” She was just about vibrating now.

Danny pretended to think. “They finally acceded to my arguments and renamed the sun ‘Springsteen’.”

Kono scrunched her face. “Now you’re not even trying.”

Danny feigned offense. “What? Personally, either of those things would make me the happiest man on Earth. I’d really love it if both happened, but I’m not greedy. I could die happy with just one.”

She leaned on the edge of his desk, dislodging a stack of papers, which slid to the floor with a woosh. He pointed to the spot where they used to be. “I have a system, you know. I knew exactly where everything was in that pile.”

“Uh-huh,” Kono said, leaning forward closer, his papers already forgotten, the thought of them blipping out of existence faster than a positron. “Are you gonna guess or what?”

He met her eyes. “Fine.” He relaxed further into his chair and let the moment build. “We’re going to Hawaii.”

Her face collapsed like the Space Shuttle program. “You asshole,” she said, standing up.

Danny lifted his eyebrows. “When’s your dissertation defense again?”

She smirked at him. “How long have you known?”

“About ten minutes longer than you,” he said. “Your cousin called me.”

“Before he called _me_?” She seemed legitimately offended.

“I am the one with the letters after my name,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “I have letters, too, you know.”

Danny smiled. “Yeah, but mine are fancier.”

+++

The W.M. Keck Observatory was nestled on the summit of the Mauna Kea volcano (dormant, of course), on the Island of Hawaii. Its director, Dr. Chin Ho Kelly, was currently shaking Danny’s hand. “It’s great to finally meet you, Dr. Williams. Kono has told me so much about you.”

Danny looked over at her fondly, then looked back at Dr. Kelly and smiled. “Please, I beg you. Consider the source. And it’s Danny, by the way.”

Dr. Kelly smiled. “Chin.”

Kono laughed and punched Danny in the arm, then turned to her cousin and said, “What took you so long to get us in, anyway? We’ve been waiting for months.”

“The Keck Observatory is one of the world’s leading astronomical research facilities,” he said. “There’s a waiting list a mile long. I couldn’t very well bump you up a few notches just because we’re family. Besides, the scheduling isn’t up to me, as you very well know.”

Kono sighed with feeling. “Nepotism is a dying art.”

Danny laughed. “She’s only here to surf, anyway,” he said to Chin. Then he looked pointedly at Kono. “On the university’s dime.”

Chin laughed. “That’s our little i’a.”

“Cuz,” Kono said in warning.

“Excuse me?” Danny asked, looking back and forth between them.

Ignoring Kono’s protests, Chin explained. “It means ‘fish’,” he said. “When she was little, she was in the water so much, we all expected her to sprout gills.”

Danny looked at Kono, lifting one eyebrow in amusement. “I’a, huh?” He was so using that.

Kono groaned and looked forlornly at Chin. “Thanks, cuz.”

Chin smiled. “No problem,” he said. Then he rubbed his hands together. “Now.” He walked behind his desk and picked up a piece of paper. “I must inform you that because of a scheduling glitch, we have a bit of an overlap at the moment. The researcher who was scheduled to use the telescopes before you was supposed to have been finished today, but because of a computer error was scheduled an extra day by mistake.” He looked at Danny. “Tomorrow. Your day. However, he has assured me that he will be able to complete his observations by tonight, therefore freeing up the telescopes for your use. He asked me if it would be alright for him to stay an extra day or so in order to use the mainframe and I told him that I would consult with you first since you have priority.”

Danny nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that. But it’s fine by me if he needs to stay. I won’t need the mainframe for a couple days, anyway.”

“Great,” Chin said. “I’ll let Dr. McGarrett know.”

Danny couldn’t quite squelch his grin.

+++

Danny found him in the lunchroom with his feet on the table and an open copy of _People_ propped on his knee. “If I had known it was you,” Danny said to him, “I would’ve told Chin to kick your ass out.”

Steve looked up and grinned, warmth flooding his eyes. “No you wouldn’t have,” he said. “Because I know for a fact that you love my ass.”

Danny felt his blood heat. “That was a long time ago, McGarrett. And there were extenuating circumstances.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Like?”

Danny chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. “Higher level math makes me horny?” 

Steve flipped the magazine closed and tossed it on the table, pressing his hands against his thighs. His dark eyes sparked with suppressed amusement. “Is that a question?”

“Rhetorical.”

Steve crossed his arms. From under his shirt sleeves peeked the bottom halves of a couple of large tattoos. They hadn’t been there in Kansas City; Danny wondered if he’d had them in Paris. “Too bad,” Steve said, smiling. “’Cause I had a really good answer all ready to go.”

Danny ignored that. He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of water, then turned to look at Steve, his eyes once again tracing what he could see of his ink. “Nice tattoos.”

Steve smiled again. It was a good look on him. “Thanks,” he said. He tilted his head a little, giving Danny a look. “I have more. In other places.” He paused for effect. “In case you’re wondering.”

Danny shook his head. It was weird, really. Except for the touch of gray in Steve’s hair and the pins holding his own knee together, it was like they were 22 again, stupidly brilliant and young enough to believe that that was all they would ever need.

For the first time in months, he was acutely aware of the bareness of his left ring finger. And to his surprise, it didn’t hurt.

He walked to the door and felt Steve watching him. Stepping into the hall, he turned and met Steve’s eyes across the distance. “It wasn’t the math,” he said. Then he turned and walked away.

And he smiled.


End file.
